Matt Brolly - Dead Lucky

DCI Michael Lambert is back…

When a woman is murdered, the twisted killer forcing her husband to watch her slow and painful death, DCI Michael Lambert knows that his next case might be his toughest yet.

And when a second set of killings are discovered, with exactly the same MO, the race is on to find the lethal sociopath before he strikes again.

But Lambert never expected to receive an anonymous call from the killer. This time, it’s personal: if Lambert doesn’t find the murderer soon, his own loved ones will be next…

The gripping second novel in a thrilling new crime series by Matt Brolly. Perfect for fans of Tony Parsons, Lee Child and Angela Marsons.

Also available by Matt Brolly

Dead Eyed

Dead Lucky

Matt Brolly

Copyright

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016

Copyright © Matt Brolly 2016

Matt Brolly asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © June 2016 ISBN: 9781474046275

Version date: 2018-09-20

Following his law degree, where he developed an interest in criminal law, MATT BROLLYcompleted his Masters in Creative Writing at Glasgow University. He reads widely across all genres, and is currently working on the third in his Michael Lambert thriller series. Matt lives in London with his wife and their two young children. You can find out more about Matt at his website MattBrolly.co.ukor by following him on twitter: @MattBrollyUK

Thanks again to so many people who have helped in the writing of Dead Lucky:

The whole team at HQ Digital for their support and encouragement. Special thanks to my wonderful Editor, Charlotte Mursell, for her insight and unending support.

All the amazing bloggers and reviewers for promoting Dead Eyed. Too many to name, but sincere thanks for each and every review. So many great blogs out there!

Alexia Capsomidis for her help promoting Dead Eyed, and the many sales she secured!

Michael Brolly, for lending his first name again.

All my friends and family who were so supportive with their feedback on Dead Eyed, and their continued support.

Ann Eardley, for her exemplary proofreading skills.

My children Freya and Hamish for being there.

And as always, Alison, for her expert eye and unwavering belief.

For my Nan, Eileen Burnell

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Book List

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Acknowledgement

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Extract

Endpages

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

He tried to stretch. His back was pushed tight against the wall, his covered head snagged between two coat hooks. Every other breath brought with it the stench of foot odour and moth bombs.

He’d been in the flat for three hours, the last two of which had been in the wardrobe. Preparation was important. The woman was predictable, she would return after work, the husband less so. His behaviour was erratic of late. He’d been spending more time at the bar than at work.

He stretched once more, savouring being alone, going over the plan again and again until it was so embedded in his mind that it was almost a memory.

The woman arrived on time. His pulse didn’t alter as he listened to her move around the room, the strange noises she made, thinking she was alone.

Eventually she left the room. Realising he’d been holding his breath, he let it out in a rush, his lungs filling with the trapped, musty air of his hiding cell.

It was another two hours before the husband arrived. He heard the front door click open, the heavy steps as the husband walked into the living room, the muted voices as the couple exchanged pleasantries.

He was about to leave his confines when he heard the woman enter the en-suite bathroom. He edged the wardrobe open. The bathroom door was ajar and he tiptoed across the bedroom floor in time to see the woman pulling up her garments.

As she left the room, he placed his right hand on her shoulder. She jumped, and rounded on him thinking he was her husband. She stared at him for a second, her mouth agape. A look of confusion crept across her face and for a heartbeat it was as if she’d been expecting his arrival. Then, realising what was happening was all too real, she went to scream.

With a practised move, he reached out and covered her mouth before she could give sound to her situation.

Chapter 2

Lambert sensed the decay as he entered the building.

He’d been here before.

Inside, the cloying stench of antiseptic and bleach did little to mask the subtle odours of illness and death which permeated from the walls of the hollow reception area.

He knew where he was going, he’d visited the same ward on numerous occasions many years ago. His body guided him along the route without him having to think, a homing instinct he’d thought long extinguished. He tried to ignore the people he passed. An elderly man, wisps of dry grey hair atop a wrinkled skull, wheeling a bag full of yellowing liquid which seeped into his veins. An obese teenage girl, pushed along in a wheelchair by two similar sized youths, her plastered leg protruding in the air like a weapon. And finally a man he’d hoped to avoid, leaving the lift as Lambert was about to enter.

The man, immaculate in a pinstriped suit and coiffured hair, froze. Lambert had to suppress a smile as the colour literally drained from the man’s face. His healthy St Tropez tan faded into a ghost-like white.

‘Michael,’ said the man, holding out his hand.

Lambert ignored the outstretched limb, not yet ready to be fully grown up about the situation. He entered the lift and turned to watch Jeremy Taylor, partner of Price Barker Solicitors, shake himself as if from a daze and walk away.